


Through the Storm

by Pokypup49



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Depression, F/M, PTSD, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokypup49/pseuds/Pokypup49
Summary: Roy has consistent nightmares. Sometimes, he just needs someone else who understands. This time he's made his way to Riza's apartment.





	Through the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the characters. I just use them for my own fantasies. :)

              WARNING!: This is a bit dark. There is also some mild sexual content. Enjoy. 

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                It was raining. Of course, it was. Thunder woke him, leaving him in a cold sweat, listening to the heavy drops of water beat on his window. He blinked a couple times, sighed, and sat up in the darkness. Nightmares were normal to him, so normal that the lack of them made him feel conflicted when he woke up. Nothing could take away the pains of war, nor the images that were burned into his memory. Though it had made him into who he was today, a stern, quiet, and angry man, it also made him hate who he was. Roy rubbed his face as he woke up and he pushed the charred bodies that plagued his dreams from his head. “It’s only 1:30,” he groaned as he slid his legs out of his bed. “So much for sleep.”

                His lieutenant may always be on him for sleeping so much, but she knew why. They all knew why, but she understood why. Her intimate relationship with death and the war had brought them closer, possibly sealing their fate together. Maybe that’s why he found himself dressed and walking in the rain, mindlessly making his way to her apartment door. He didn’t knock at first. He stood there, resembling a wet, pathetic dog, looking sadly at the door. He felt like it at least. To wake her, or not to wake her? The lights were off, but that didn’t mean anything. She might be in her bedroom reading with a lamp on. She was not so much a night owl, but she did enjoy reading. “Now you’re just reasoning with yourself,” he commented lowly to himself.

                His fist fell upon her door, three times, generically knocking. He waited, letting his coat drip on the carpet in the walkway. He could hear it more than he could feel the drips slide down his temple and ear. He felt numb if anything, but he listened intensely for any movement. But all he could hear was Hayate’s little steps to the door and sniffing under the seal. He whined, knowing it was Roy. He and the dog got along incredibly well, however, Hayate also loved Fullmetal.

                Before Roy could prepare, the door swung open and the dog leaped up at him.

                “Colonel?”

                “Hey, Hayate,” Roy greeted with a pat on the head. He turned up to Riza, tired, heavy eyes pleading for help. “Lieutenant.”

                “Are you okay?”

                He let out a sigh, more of relief than of exasperation. “Yeah.”

                She stepped to the side and waved him in. “You’re soaked! What did you do? Walk here?”

                He nodded as he took his jacket off and hung it on the wall in the entryway.

                “You have a car,” she reminded, shutting the door.

                “I know, but I needed a walk.”

                Riza seemed to understand as she looked at him, tilting her head with sympathy. “You want to talk about it?”

                “It’s not different from any other time,” he waved his hand as he dismissed her request. “There are no new details to talk about.”

                She nodded and lead him into her small kitchen. “Would you like some tea?” He watched her as she turned on a lamp and set to work filling her black kettle and setting it on a hot burner. He watched her movements, smooth, precise, and purposed. None of her movements were wasted energy. Her own energy was calm, but Roy felt that she was not as relaxed as she tried to seem. There was no doubt that his dreams were troubling her.

                “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized as he realized this. “I don’t mean to trouble you.”

                Riza quickly turned around and shook her head, her long blonde hair swaying side to side. “Never,” she argued. “Don’t ever apologize for this,” she firmly commanded. She walked over to him, standing next to him, looking down at him in his seat.

                Roy looked up at her, feeling his eyes half closed and puffy. He felt her hands cup his face as she leaned down toward him. Their eyes locked, intensely. If words were needed to be spoken, they were felt within that moment. He raised his arms, resting his hands on her hips and he pleaded for her contact.

                Riza knew Roy. She knew that he could have easily found comfort, skin to skin contact, and alcohol, with anyone else. But he continued to come to her. It wasn’t the first time that he had shown up, and she never assumed it’d be the last; not until he had become Fuhrer and corrected his wrongs, and the country’s wrongs. But right now, he needed her. In her hands held an exhausted face, his eyes sunken, dulled, and dreary. His skin was pale, it was rough and in need of a shave. She complied willingly to his plea and stepped forward. His legs opened, and she stepped between them, pulling his face to her chest. “It pains me to see you this way,” she whispered.

                “I’m sorry,” he breathed into her warm shirt. His grip on her hips tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to unleash in his great despair. “I can’t get their faces out of my head.”

                Her fingers running through his hair gave him great comfort, her fingers massaging his scalp. “Yeah,” she whispered before kissing the top of his head. “I know…” She also saw the twisted faces of her own murders. His fingers dug into her sides before loosening their grip and sliding up. He looked back up at her. “Why don’t you stay here,” she offered softly. She brushed a lock of hair from his face and smiled. “Can’t have you walking home in this storm. You’d be useless if Scar came after you.”

                It was a joke, he knew, but he was happy to accept the offer just so that he was not alone. He nodded his acceptance.

                As their lips connected, his heart felt lighter and the dark thoughts rose from his mind. He savored her taste, but he dared not to breathe as he felt didn’t want the moment to pass. It was not normal for them to show affection towards each other. He’d admit, only to himself, that they did have affections, but not to anyone else. He let her take him, gave himself to her. It was her gift to him, to take him away from it all. As she dropped her hands from his face to his chest, pulling apart his button-up shirt, the kettle began to whistle. She pulled back from their connection and laughed. “I forgot about that,” she admitted and stepped back from Roy to pull the kettle from the heat. But she didn’t pour his tea. She instead returned to his side and slid onto his lap, pulling his face up to hers. Their eyes locked again, but not for long as her lips gently touched his. His hands reached back, grabbing her plump rear and pulling her onto him proper. He groaned into their kiss, feeling her hip-tilt towards him. Roy buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent, and kissing her shoulder.

                It wasn’t long till Riza felt it was time to move on and go to her bedroom. But as she pulled back and motioned to stand up, Roy growled lowly and pulled her tighter to him. “No,” he ordered. But he didn’t give her a moment to argue. He stood up, holding her to him and turned to step over Hayate and into her bedroom. There, a ceremony that was older them their existence began. Normally, Riza could go along with more of a rough play with him, but this time it was softer that she was taken completely by surprise. The moment was somber, quiet, and rhythmic. His lips didn’t leave hers, even as he lowered her to bed, and only for a second while he pulled his shirt off, and then again for hers. She could feel the desperate need, the pressure, the angst, in each kiss as they pushed on. Riza pressed back against him, welcoming his pleas for acceptance and release. She ran her hands from his chest to his sides, then up his back, grasping his shoulders and pulling herself up to him.

                Roy pressed his erection against her own pelvis, groaning lowly. He broke their kissing as he sat up and worked to undo his belt and remove his belt. He kept his eyes on her, however. Riza squinted curiously, staring deeply into his dark eyes. She could see it all the hurt that his heart was weighted down by. “Roy,” she whispered as she reached up for him, her hand resting on his scar from him searing his wound closed, and the other hand on his chest. “Why are you so sad?” It was rhetorical. She knew. But she still wanted to make him happy, even if it was for a moment, quiet and alone, that she’d please him, it’d bring her own happiness. Inner conflicts rose within these moments since she was not one to wish sacrifice of herself to bring happiness to others, but Roy always seemed to be different.

                He pulled his pants away and returned over her, his own hand grasping hers over his heart and pulling it up to kiss the palm. “Sadness,” he breathed on her hand. “Sadness is knowing that you are never good enough for the only person that you desire.”

                Riza half smiled, pulling her hand from his grip and brushing some hair from his eyes. As her hand dropped to cup his face, she pulled him down to argue his sorrow. Their lips connected, and for the flame alchemist, she gave him the warmth of comfort. Their bare bodies met, in the twilight, and as Amestris slept, they awoke with life between them. He groaned, watching her fall back with heavy breath, gasping for release, but he withheld. He didn’t want it to stop. When all this ended, he’d go back to his melancholy, and she’d go back to being his lieutenant, and another day behind a desk would start.  There, with her, in their purest forms, he would be forever content, knowing that he could find peace in his own shadows. This would not be, and he felt her grasp madly at his back shoulders as her hips rose to accept him fully, tightening around him, and her gasp and whine in pleasure. His hands gripped her pale sheets in the same elevation. They’d never been a loud couple, and thus, his own climax was had with a low, drawn out grunt.

                Roy didn’t collapse upon her but held his form and recovered his breath. “I can go home,” he muttered in between his shallow breaths. He looked upon her chest, her ample breasts, and her pale skin. His eyes wandered, up her neck, her golden hair, and her beautiful eyes.

                “Don’t,” she whispered back. “I mean…” She bit her lip as she took a heavy breath, “You don’t have to if you choose not to.”

                Roy smirked. “You can ask me to stay,” he chuckled. “Would that make you happy?”

                Riza smiled softly in return. “It would.” She took another deep breath as he finally relented and fell to her side. “Maybe now,” she said as she turned to look at his relaxed form, “you’ll be able to get some sleep and stop sleeping at your desk.”

                “Yeah, yeah,” he yawned, dismissing her nagging. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her midsection and burying his face in her hair and neck. She’d forever hold his secret that he yearned for touches, comforts, and she allowed herself those embraces, if but for the night.

                As the rain’s beat relented against her bedroom window, and the wind’s hard gusts began, the light snoring of Hayate became musical to their own gentle breaths. As he had wished, the world relented its curse of darkness upon him, and he was able to drink into a fitful rest. Nothing bothered him, and, though Riza couldn’t see it, he smiled ever so slightly as he smelled her shampoo scent.

               

               

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm writing again! I love defeating writer's block! I love Fullmetal Alchemist, and I'm happy to be writing about the characters. Please let me know if you like it. Love you all!


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